‘It’s the gamekeeper’s cottage,’ said Justin. ‘It’s too far away from the house for you to come across, normally.’ He laughed. ‘Just as well, or you’d have made it guest accommodation – in the middle of the woods, like in Hansel and Gretel. But it’s safe. Come on in. The door’s not locked.’
The wooden door opened on to a room filled with lamplight. There seemed to be a light on every surface and there was a fire flickering in the grate.’
‘I had to get all this lit and then come and find you before the fire went out.’
‘But it’s summer!’ said Meg, entering the house.
‘I know, but these old cottages can be damp and smell a bit mouldy. Besides, I love a fire in summer. Otherwise people feel obliged to wear cardigans.’
Meg started to laugh. ‘Cardigans! Honestly, Justin!’
‘It would be a shame to wear a cardigan over that lovely dress, Meggy.’
‘I’m not even sure I own a cardigan,’ said Meg. ‘I’d have had to borrow one from my mother.’
‘I obviously knew that,’ he said. ‘Hence the fire. Come and sit by it. There should really be a wooden settle there, but they are very uncomfortable. This sofa, on the other hand, is fine. I’ll pull it round.’
Meg found herself putting her hands out to warm in the firelight. ‘It isn’t cold outside at all, but having a fire is lovely. This cottage reminds me of where Lizzie lives.’
‘Is that a good thing?’ asked Justin, who seemed a little on edge.
‘It’s a very good thing,’ said Meg, smiling up at him. ‘Why don’t you sit down next to me?’
‘Music first!’ He went to the table where a wind-up gramophone stood. ‘There’s no electricity in this house. I didn’t have time to organise that. I bought this gramophone and a pile of seventy-eight records in a little junk shop.’
Soon the house was filled with rather scratchy jazz music.
‘Our own private party!’ said Meg, relaxing more as every moment passed.
‘I’ve got food,’ he said. ‘You can’t expect a chef to do anything romantic that doesn’t involve food.’
Although she didn’t say it, Meg felt the situation was indeed romantic. ‘A four-course meal?’ she suggested instead.
‘I’m afraid not. Are you hungry? Have you had anything to eat this evening?’
Meg hadn’t really noticed at the time but now she remembered that she hadn’t. ‘I’m starving.’
‘It’s only a picnic but Susan helped me make it so it’s ample.’
He disappeared into the kitchen and came out with a hamper. He pulled up a little table and put the hamper on it, but still he wouldn’t sit down. He went back to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of champagne and glasses. Only when he’d put on another record and opened the bottle and filled the glasses did he sit down.
‘Are we celebrating something?’ asked Meg, indicating the champagne.
‘I do hope so!’ said Justin. He seemed to be getting more and more flustered, completely lacking in his usual swagger and confidence.
‘Well, what is it? What do you want to celebrate? The play? Nightingale Woods?’
‘Oh, Meg! It’s not like you to be dense. I’m going to ask you to marry me. The champagne is to celebrate our engagement!’
A smile spread across Meg’s face and her heart swelled with happiness. ‘So, if you do actually ask me to marry you, and I say no, I’m not allowed the champagne?’ she said solemnly, her heart singing.
He nodded. And to her relief, he didn’t get down on one knee, he just sat on the sofa next to her and took hold of her hands. ‘Will you marry me, Meggy?’
She took a deep breath. ‘Of course I will!’
‘Thank goodness for that. I wasn’t at all sure that you’d say yes. I can be such a grumpy, difficult so- and-so.’
She laughed but she didn’t deny it.
